


Wanna, Gonna, Gotta

by keelywolfe



Series: Synonyms [5]
Category: LazyTown
Genre: Clothed Sex, Fluff and Angst, Kinda of Oral? I don't even know how to tag this, M/M, Oral Sex, Stephanie ain't taking Robbie's crap, slight D/s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 02:02:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9945419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelywolfe/pseuds/keelywolfe
Summary: Mistakes were made, Robbie can admit that. Even when he's terrible at it, Robbie is perfectly capable of fixing things when he breaks them.





	

* * *

Robbie was well-accustomed to being alone. He preferred it, really; being alone meant silence, and in silence a person could think if they wanted to or not think at all. He could sit in his chair with the lights dimmed and his blanket wrapped around him and just not. Think.

When that grew tiresome, Robbie cleaned. He tossed out the remains of the Anti-Sportinator 3000, reorganized his disguises, and put everything in its place. Lazy did not mean disorganized, thank you very much, and it was much easier to be lazy when you weren't constantly tripping over things or trying to find them.

He spent three days swapping between lounging and organizing. Three days was hardly his personal best for staying home but it did seem to be the length of time he could keep thoughts from creeping in through his mental barriers. They trickled in, as ethereal as smoke, and brought memories with them. Memories, ideas, _thoughts_ , blast it all, and three days was as long as Robbie could resist, it seemed. 

Three. Days. He should have his villain card revoked. 

After three days underground the sun seemed brighter than normal, glaring down at him. Robbie ignored it, blinking his watering eyes as he stormed his way through town to the park. Back to that place, back where this had all started, and Robbie sat down in that little grassy knoll, not ten feet from the bench, and waited. 

Because the universe had a personal vendetta against him, the person who found him was not the one he'd expected. The little girl with the bright pink hair had been skipping past with a pair of skates draped over her shoulder and she'd frozen when she'd seen Robbie. The skates fell to the ground, unnoticed, and Robbie could only blink up at her as she stomped over to him. 

"What's going on between you and Sportacus?" The pink-haired brat demanded.

Well, this was an auspicious start to the day.

"What do you mean?" Robbie hedged. 

"First, he asks me to help make you lunch. Lunch! And specifies that I don't put any sportscandy in it because he wanted to make sure you'd actually eat it. I thought he was just trying to do something nice for you—"

"It was a pretty good sandwich," Robbie admitted. 

That took her aback. She floundered for a moment, mouth opening and closing, before settling on a weak, "You're welcome."

"I didn't thank you."

And wasn't that an impressively scathing look. The kid had potential, he had to give her that. "See! That's what I mean right there! He tried to do something nice for you and you did something mean, I know you did!" She had both hands on her hips now which seemed to be the universal Lazytown way of signaling dominance, and was getting louder and shriller with every word. "I saw him carrying you down from his airship a few days ago and ever since then, he's been acting strange! You did something to him. If you hurt him somehow, I am…I'm going to…" 

"Yes?" Robbie was genuinely curious what this kid thought she was going to do.

"I'll…I'll tell my Uncle and he'll have you put in jail!"

Ah, disappointingly mediocre. "If you could be put in jail for being mean, I'd already be there."

"You'd probably have a life sentence," Pinkie yelled back. There, that was a little better. She was all but nose to nose with Robbie now, glaring down at him, and maybe gathering up her wits enough to think of a better threat, when they were interrupted. 

"Stephanie!" Loudly said, bordering on sharp, and both of them startled. Pinkie took a couple steps back, giving Robbie a last heated glare before turning to look at Sportacus. Who had managed to sneak up on them somehow, even though he was not generally known for his quiet entrances. He looked back and forth between them, at Stephanie's downcast eyes and Robbie's general avoidance of his gaze. 

"Stephanie," Sportacus said, "Why don't you go over to the basketball court? We can play a game and talk."

"All right," she agreed warily, eyes flicking from Robbie to Sportacus and back. She scooped up her skates from where she'd dropped them, still hanging back. Neither Robbie nor Sportacus moved. Robbie kept his eyes on his shoes. 

"Go on," he urged softly. "I'll be right there."

Finally the little wretch left, and they were as alone as anyone could be in a public park. Sportacus didn't come closer, didn't reach out a hand, and Robbie picked absently at the grass. The silence was unbearable and finally Robbie broke it, "Don't you have a game to be playing?"

A pair of blue shoes appeared in his line of sight but no closer. "If you stay here, I'll come back."

The urge was there, to sneer at him, to tell him he had better things to do than sit around waiting for him while he played, loudly, with all the local brats. Robbie stifled all of them and nodded curtly. It was just as easy to sit here as it was in his chair, particularly since not thinking was no longer an option.

Something close to an eternity later and Sportacus jogged back over to him. No flips or cartwheels, Pinkie had been right about that, he was acting out of character. He hesitated when he got to Robbie, shuffling his feet a bit. It was enough for Robbie to finally look at him, really look. He looked…normal. In his ridiculous blue jogging suit that bordered on too-tight, and his ridiculous pants with those ridiculous cuffs, topped off with an utterly foolish hat. Completely normal, which meant he looked absolutely delicious except for the faint, darkish circles beneath his eyes, ones that matched Robbie's. 

"You can sit down, I'm not going to bite!" Robbie snapped out and the very moment the words left his lips, he knew it was the wrong thing to say. Particularly with that purplish bruise still visible above the edge of Sportacus's collar. 

He was quickly proven right when a little smirk curved up the corners of Sportacus's mouth and he murmured, "That's a shame, isn't it." But he did sit down on the grass, leaving a little space between him and Robbie. But not much. 

"You spent a lot of time with the little pink haired brat. Giving her a little gossip about us, are you?"

"She's not a brat and her name is Stephanie. She's my friend."

"How lovely for you."

"It is," Sportacus leaned back on his hands. "She wanted to know what was going on between us, because there are times you have been unkind to me, and to her and her friends."

"And of course you reassured her that deep down I am such a terribly nice man."

"No. I told her I appreciated her concern but it was a relationship between adults and none of her business," Sportacus said calmly, as if he talked about his sex life with teenagers every day, with a matinee on Saturdays. "Then she asked me, quite rightly, how I could have 'an adult relationship'," And oh, someone kill Robbie, he actually did the little air quotes, "With someone who could be cruel to me."

"And you told her?"

"I told her the truth. You should always tell children the truth if you can."

"And what is the truth?"

Sportacus gave him a wry little smile. "I told her that it was complicated."

Robbie sighed. "That it is. It is very complicated." He drew up his knees and rested his chin on them, asking mournfully, "Why did you have to come here?" 

"Here?" Sportacus looked around, puzzled, "I saw you sitting here and Stephanie was yelling—"

"Not here!" Robbie snapped. He turned his head, still on his knees, enough to glare at him. " _Here_ , here, to Lazytown!"

"Ah," that little half-shrug, and Robbie hated himself a little for how much he enjoyed watching the ripple of his shoulders. "I had to come."

That was new information. Of course it was the Pink kid who'd gotten him here, but …"What?"

"You were waiting for me," Sportacus nudged him lightly with his elbow, "Does not a villain need a hero?"

Oh, for…"You're ridiculous."

"Maybe," Sportacus chuckled. 

"And I was perfectly happy without you!"

"Were you?" He sounded honestly curious, both eyebrows rising almost to the edge of his hat. 

"Maybe."

Sportacus laughed aloud at that. 

"Well, anyway, you're here. So what made you want to—" Robbie fumbled for the words and settled on a semi-obscene gesture, noting with great interest that for all his blunt talk, one second of poking a finger into a closed fist was enough to make a blush rise in Sportacus's cheeks. "--with me? As I've been informed on no uncertain terms that it's not because I am the only option in town."

Another shrug and his arm brushed Robbie's, enough of a touch to make Robbie feel a tingle of warmth, "You smell right."

Okay, now that was worth a little attention. Robbie finally lifted his head from his knees to blatantly stare at the abruptly weirder than he'd thought creature sitting next to him, "You wanted to get into my pants because you like the way I _smell_."

That got him a full eye roll which Robbie thought was very unfair. Sportacus was the one who'd started this line of thought, thank you. "No, I wanted to get into your pants because I like you. And it's not that I like the way you smell, though I do, it's that you smell _right_."

"Wonderful, my pheromones are like elf nip," Robbie snorted. "You keep saying you like me but I can't understand why. Pinkie…Stephanie is right. I am cruel to you."

"Sometimes," Sportacus agreed. "And sometimes you are kind. Sometimes you play with the children and you pet stray dogs. Sometimes you're grouchy and haven't had enough sleep and you lash out at every little thing. Sometimes it's all too much for you and you need to be someplace quiet and alone. And sometimes you stand outside in the moonlight when you think no one can see you and you're lovely."

"Please stop," Robbie said hoarsely, because that had been last night when his lair had suddenly been stifling and all he'd wanted was a breath of fresh air, and it was edging on too much. 

"All right," Sportacus said quietly. "But Robbie, I just want you to understand. I know you, I do, and I like you as you are." A quick, lopsided grin, "No matter how you smell."

Robbie sighed. Slowly, warily, he reached out and settled a hand on Sportacus's knee. He resolutely did not flinch when a warm hand settled over his own, twining their fingers together. 

A broad thumb rubbed over his knuckles like an apology, and Sportacus said softly, "I did this wrong with you, I think. I had wanted this so long, thinking of touching you, that when I had the chance…I took faster than you were ready to give."

Robbie bristled. "So you're saying I can't handle an 'adult relationship'." Great, now the fool had him doing it.

"Don't go putting words in my mouth." He sprawled back in the grass, tugging gently at Robbie's hand. He followed grudgingly, resting his head on that broad chest with a strong arm at his back, holding him in. He didn't much care to be the little spoon but this wasn't so bad. "I think maybe it is just a relationship with _me_ that is troublesome."

"Complicated."

"Yes, complicated. It is. You are very hard work, Robbie," He tightened his arm as Robbie squirmed in protest and pressed a smacking, wet kiss to the top of Robbie's head. "Luckily, I like hard work."

"I've had relationships before."

"With your nemesis? Even if you had another nemesis, I don't think you were with him. Also, I don't like thinking of you with anyone else."

"Jealous?"

"Yes," Shortly, and Robbie snorted a laugh.

The sun was just starting to set and Robbie felt a little déjà vu, they'd been here before, that first time, and he wondered if he'd react the same way he had then, knowing what he knew now. Probably, Robbie had never been very good at self-preservation.

He proved it by asking, "Can you come down to my home this time?"

"I'd like that." Sportacus offered him that sly grin. "If I do, do you promise to bite?"

"I promise nothing."

"Then I'll take my chances."

* * *

In the three days he'd spent hiding from the world, Robbie had actually not been idle. He was lazy, yes, obviously it was part of his charm. But idling was something different, even laziness had its point and rewards. Also, he was rather pragmatic at the end of the day and he'd known it would come to this. Sportacus back here in his home with plans to do filthy, filthy things that not two weeks ago Robbie would have sworn up and down that the blue fool wouldn't even know what they were, much less do them with eager enthusiasm. 

With that in mind, Robbie had to protect the integrity of his chair and had instead turned one of his emptier store rooms into a bedroom. It was a room, it had a bed, close enough. And not a pathetic little slab of foam that was hardly big enough for one person to sleep much less two, no, Robbie had welded a nice, sturdy bed frame with a curling metal headboard, large enough to hold a king-size mattress that may have arrived with expedited shipping. 

No matter how conflicted Robbie had been ordering it, it was possible it was worth the effort just to see Sportacus light up at the sight of it, kicking off his shoes and sprawling out on the thick comforter and pillows because seriously, if you were going to get a bed, you may as well get a _bed_. 

Robbie stood in the doorway and watched Sportacus roll around on the blankets with indulgent amusement. He really was a Labrador retriever. "Would you like me to join you or are you all right there on your own?"

Sportacus sat up with a grin, his hat askew, and shuffled to sit on the edge of the bed, both arms open, "Come here?"

"Here?" Robbie took a single step forward, nowhere near close enough for Sportacus to reach out and haul him in. Oh, and wasn't that pout a thing of beauty?

"Come here, come here," Sportacus wheedled, louder with every step closer Robbie took. As he'd suspected, when he was close enough Sportacus dragged him in. He just didn't expect him to do it with his _feet_ , hooking his toes behind Robbie's knees and forcing him to stagger close enough for the ridiculous Elf to wrap both arms around him and bury his face into Robbie's belly. 

"We don't have to do anything tonight," the words were mostly muffled into Robbie's shirt. "We can just sleep, I don't even have to hold you if you don't want."

"It's not the sex I have a problem with, fool," Robbie snorted. He pushed on Sportacus's shoulders, struggling a bit, and was instantly released. Not exactly what he'd wanted and another push had Sportacus on his back, perfectly positioned for Robbie to straddle his thighs. 

"No?" Sportacus looked insultingly skeptical. He settled his hands almost gingerly on Robbie's hips. 

"No," Robbie mocked, softly, "You're just…you're overwhelming." He couldn't look in those earnest blue eyes any longer, leaned in and nudged at Sportacus's chin with his nose until he tipped his head back. It revealed the perfect place for Robbie to place a gentle bite and he felt as much as heard Sportacus gasp, his hands tightening convulsively on Robbie's hips. 

"I don't mean to be," Sportacus groaned. He arched up as Robbie bit a path down to his collarbone and Robbie could feel he was already hard, slid a hand down to lightly cup him through his pants.

_I know you don't_ , Robbie didn't say. Instead, he rubbed his thumb slowly up the rigid length just as he sank his teeth into the base of Sportacus's throat and oh, that was a gorgeous sound, low and too-loud, almost a wordless shout. 

There was something gloriously filthy with doing this fully clothed. Sweat rising from too many layers and too much friction, and when Sportacus tried to touch him, Robbie leaned back abruptly. Captured both those hands and pressed them firmly back against the mattress.

"Leave those there," Robbie ordered and oh, by all the blasted heavens, Sportacus _obeyed_ him, wrapped both hands around the iron frame and gripped. The heat in those blue eyes could have melted steel and Robbie ducked his head again, focused his attention on the crystal casing on Sportacus's vest because it was definitely in his way. It took a few minutes of fussing to find the catch, all the more satisfying that Sportacus didn't offer to help.

With grudging care, Robbie set it aside and now he had room to play. He gave into the urge to push up Sportacus's shirt, just enough to expose his belly. Flat and perfect, of course it was, and Robbie smoothed both hands over it, rubbing his thumbs up to his navel and back down, following the fine trail of blond hair to his trousers. To his delight, Sportacus squirmed, hips lifting convulsively as he huffed out a laugh. 

"Oh, are we ticklish?" Robbie cooed. He did it again and was almost unseated as Sportacus jerked wildly. 

"Don't, don't," Sportacus pleaded, twitching and laughing while Robbie ignored his begging. His grip didn't change although the headboard made a creaky little sound, and really, such obedience deserved a reward. 

Robbie stopped tickling, petted him soothingly until Sportacus settle back against the bed, still quivering and panting. Then he shifted down enough that he could press his lips to the smooth skin just above Sportacus's waistband, mouthing wetly. He heard a choked off moan, tasted salt and skin, and Robbie tongued his way up to the dimple of his navel and back down, finally grazing his teeth along the shining trail. 

The hard bulge pressing urgently against Sportacus's trousers caught his attention. Robbie flicked a glance up and caught Sportacus gaze. Held it with his own, bright blue eyes set in a sweating face, then slid downward, scraping his teeth against the length through the thin fabric.

"Ah!" The line of their gaze snapped as Sportacus arched up, head tipping back and his hips rising from the bed. The muscles in his arms bulged enticingly alongside an ominous groan from the metal he was gripping when Robbie did it again. "Robbie, oh…Robbie…!"

"Hmm?" Robbie hummed, tonguing the head through Sportacus's trousers, leaving an obvious wet patch. He drew his thumb down the length firmly, followed it again with his teeth. The scrape of them against fabric was loud but Sportacus's sob was louder, a broken cry, and Robbie could feel the strain of him coming beneath his mouth, the jerk and quiver even through layers of cloth. 

Louder still was the sound of shrieking metal and that had Robbie sitting up. He petted Sportacus's belly absently, gently soothing him down, even as he took in his new, very broken, headboard. 

"I'm so sorry," Sportacus said weakly, and Robbie touched one of the distorted curlicues that had once been a very nice wrought iron headboard.

"It's all right, substandard materials," Robbie shrugged it off, far more interested in Sportacus's reddened lower lip, the obvious dents where he'd dug his teeth in, probably trying to be quiet. Charming, but unnecessary, and good lord, Sportacus even had his hat still on. 

That couldn't be allowed and Robbie tugged it off, let those soft curls loose. He sank a hand in them, one thumb resting on the curve of Sportacus's ear to steady him as he leaned in and stole a kiss from those bruised lips.

His mouth went soft and hot beneath Robbie's, that sweet apple taste was growing far too familiar. When Robbie pulled back, he was held in by fingertips grazing his jaw, by Sportacus lifting his head enough to take a kiss of his own. Gentler by far than any kiss they'd shared, without even a nibble of teeth. 

When Sportacus finally drew back, letting his head fall back to the pillow, Robbie was at a loss for words. There was something unexpectedly fragile in those blue eyes, unexpected but…not unwanted.

"Do you…do you want…" Sportacus began, fingers already skimming down the front of Robbie's shirt.

"No, I don't think so," Robbie said, slowly, and when that soft light began to dim in those eyes, he added hastily, "I owed you one, remember?"

That earned him a grin and the moment shifted, settling back into something more normal. "Then can I at least clean up?"

"Stay here, I'll bring you a washcloth," Robbie offered. He took the time to grab his own pajamas, making sure to get the water nice and hot before he wet the cloth. 

By the time he got back, Sportacus had already drawn back the covers and was unashamedly naked on top of them. Robbie rolled his eyes and handed off the cloth, didn't bother affecting any shyness when he changed into his pajamas. He gathered up both of their clothes and dropped them into the laundry chute so they'd be cleaned and pressed by morning. 

He added the washcloth with a moue of distaste and when he turned back, Sportacus was beneath the covers, one blond curl falling over his forehead and a hand reaching out for Robbie. Offering a night of comforting sleep and so, so much more. 

Oh, that wasn't fair, it really wasn't. The sight of Sportacus in a bed, in _his_ bed, that he'd bought for this because he'd known this would happen. They were going to end up like this no matter what Robbie thought of it, whatever panic was holding him back because his need and his terror were equal measures. There weren't words for the emotion that was settling into Robbie's stomach, not in English anyway, and if they existed in Elvish, he didn't know how to ask Sportacus what they were. 

Robbie swallowed it all down, that swirling, all-encompassing emotion, swallowed down the terror and the need, and everything in one choking, hot mess because none of it mattered, not right now. He took that offered hand and let Sportacus pull him into the bed, sighed as warm hands ran over him curiously, smoothing over the silkiness of his pajamas.

"I like these," Sportacus murmured. 

"Do you want a set of your own?"

"No, I'd rather just feel yours," Sleepily, and even so, Robbie resisted when Sportacus tried to turn him, shoving and manhandling the pliant Elf until Robbie could be the big spoon, as was proper. Robbie snugged up behind him with utterly bare skin against his own pajamas, buried beneath the blankets like a secret cocoon against the world. 

-finis-


End file.
